I know the time will come when I will have to go back to the desert. I use the phrase "have to" with much weight here. I am a desert creature, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. The desert is dry and I am oily. The desert is hot and I perspire easily and profusely. The sun is mighty and my skin glows copper as the desert floor. In that thin air I can communicate more freely between worlds - or maybe they through me. I can see what the physical eye normally does not see where the veil is less dense. The space is vast, the mountains are tall, the eye reaches far and I do not feel boxed in. My heart is open wide - wide as the distance between mountains or the visible curve of the earth. A gila monster would not thrive in the swamps, though it might take pleasure in the way the slick moss feels on its back. Soon it will start to rot and wither, maybe from the inside out as I have. And regardless of its love for those creatures of the mire, it would be time to return to the dust.
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